


let's compare scars i'll tell you whose is worse

by skellington



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Scars, house fire, i dunno, i love soulmates aus so much i'll probably write a million more, kinda angsty?, luke wants to be a doctor and volunteers at a hospital, matching scars, ok so after those tags i've decided yeah it's pretty angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:51:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skellington/pseuds/skellington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke used to playfully wish that he had been mauled by a bear or something so he could find his soul mate easily.<br/>Luke now knows to be careful what you wish for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's compare scars i'll tell you whose is worse

Luke's biggest university regret is signing up for the 7 AM Human Anatomy class.

His second biggest university regret is deciding to get blackout drunk the night before his 7 AM Human Anatomy class.

He's late and running towards the east wing of the campus with a massive headache when he collides head on into another person; said person drops all of their things, and Luke goes to help them, but they stop and stare at the right side of his face.

"Man, what happened to your face?" They ask, as Luke scrambles to pick up their things -- he's a generous man, really -- and he doesn't pay it any mind, just rushes to gather their stuff so he can get to class.

"Uh, sorry," he mumbles, before racing to class. The weird question the kid asked is forgotten.

 

He bursts into the classroom, twenty minutes late, and the professor, mid-lecture, turns to chew him out, but stops and stares with widened eyes. Luke gulps under her stare.

"Um, yes?" He asks, confused and slightly scared under her scrutinizing gaze. She just shakes her head and motions for him to go to his seat, resuming her lecture. As he's making his way towards his seat in the back, heads are turning with him, eyes are bulging out of their heads, and eyebrows are furrowing. Luke has no idea what's going on, or why his face seems so interesting today, but it's honestly starting to weird him out. He's never been any good under the weight of intense stares, so naturally, he trips in the middle of the isle. People snicker, but no one pays any more attention to his face. That's better, he guesses.

 

Luke only really remembers how everyone is treating his face today when he meets up with Calum and Michael and they, collectively, simultaneously, in the creepiest, soul-mates-need-to-be-stopped way, go, "What the fuck happened to your face?" Their eyes light up when they realize they said it at the same time, but don't take them off of Luke -- Calum just sticks his hand out for a high five and Michael returns it. Luke cringes. Creepy.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about! Everyone's been looking at me funny today. Did I break out or something?" Luke asks desperately, because honestly, _what the fuck happened to his face?_

"Have you not looked in the mirror today? You're usually glued to it," Calum asks, eyebrows furrowed. He temporarily seems to forget about the matter at hand, more taken by the fact that Luke hasn't seen himself today. Luke is slightly offended.

Michael rolls his eyes and pulls out a compact mirror from his messenger bag -- and okay, _Luke_ is the vain one? -- and says, "Look for yourself, mate."

Luke takes the mirror from his friend and holds it up, expecting a massive pimple or something equally grotesque, but he finds that the entire right side of his face is red and blistery. Scars. They're littered all over his cheekbone, jawline, and some even reach his eyebrow. The scars stretch down his neck, too, and there are some on his right forearm, and _how did he not notice these this morning?_ Luke doesn't recall a lot of things about last night, but he's at least 85% sure that there wasn't any fire involved. So, either he got in a fight with an aggressive fire juggler on his stagger back home, or his soul mate's been involved in a bad accident. He's betting on the latter.

"What happened last night, man? Did someone start a fire or something?" Calum asks, worry washing over his features.

"I need to find them," is all Luke says. Calum looks puzzled, but Michael seems to get it. He pulls Luke into a hug.

"They'll be okay, man. They're alive. They're okay," he says, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Luke's back. Calum seems to catch on by this point, and wraps his arms around the both of them.

"You'll find them soon," he says.

Luke feels tears burning at the back of his eyes, and listens to his friends' comforting words. He can only hope that they're right.

 

 

Luke has found scars before, ones that he hadn't earned himself. Of course he has. There have been scratches littered around his calves and forearms and fingertips, typical scars that everyone gets -- and lots of bruises. He'd gone to class one morning with a black eye, and was almost proud to say that it had been his soul mate, not him. (Some people didn't have soul mates. He liked to rub it in everyone's face that he wasn't one of those people.) He's lucky to say that none of the scars seem to be self-inflicted; Calum and Michael went through that. Calum had seen the first cuts, thought they were a one time thing; they appeared more and more frequently, up until his whole forearm was covered in lines -- that's when he came out and showed Luke and Michael. Michael flipped, and Calum went after him -- long story short, they sorted stuff out. Michael's been clean for two years.

But some of the wounds, some of the scars he's received, they seem really harsh; abusive, even. Like someone's been wailing on his soul mate. It scares Luke, the thought of someone hurting his soul mate. It angers him, too -- infuriates him; he's overwhelmed with the urge to protect, to secure, and he feels so goddamn helpless. How can he protect someone he doesn't know from dangers he doesn't know?

And these ones, the ones residing on nearly the entire right side of his body - seriously, _how did he not notice these? -_ are different. They're more severe than the scars have ever been. Luke is praying that it was just some freakish accident, some silly mistake like knocking over a candle or leaving the stove on -- hell, he's even hoping that his soul mate is just reckless, and maybe dove into a fire on a dare, or impulse. But this one's different and he knows it. Luke can almost feel the malice behind the scars. Someone did this to his soul mate. Luke wants to barf.

 

 

On Wednesday morning, Luke gets an email from his professor of one of his Patient Care courses. The subject line reads: _**Hospital Volunteers Needed - Extra Credit Offer**_

 

 He hops on it immediately. He needs a little more than extra credit. He skims through the attached document, reads a little about what to do when shadowing a doctor, and signs himself up. He can handle pushing a cart around, he thinks.

 

 

 

Luke _really_ should have been more thorough when reading through that email. Come Friday, he's awake at ass o'clock in the morning, dressed in horribly unflattering scrubs, and sporting not-so-artfully tousled hair. He's been at the hospital for two hours, and so far he's had to change six bandages, coerce three people with needle phobias into letting him take their vitals, and give five stitches. If this is a regular day in the ICU, Luke's not so sure he wants to be a doctor anymore. (Who's he kidding though, really? He's been wanting this for ages - he thinks that practicing it now is making him love it even more. The chaos is a little fun.)

The scars on his body haven't faded any, not that Luke expected them to, but he thinks they're giving patients a scare. It just adds to the pain of not knowing how his soul mate is doing, or what's done this to them.

He's carrying a tray of unappetizing hospital food down the corridor as he follows his mentor, Dr. Morrison, to their next stop in the ICU. They stop in front of room 604, and Luke feels a strange tugging in his chest. Weird.

"Alright. Room 604. Patient's name is Ashton Irwin; burn victim," Luke's ears perk up here, "Just go in there and give him his food, change his bandages, check his vitals. Try to make some conversation with him, maybe? He hasn't been talking any to any other nurses. Maybe he'll give you a chance," Dr. Morrison instructs, giving Luke a small smile. Luke returns it and walks into the room not-so-gracefully.

The door closes behind him as he trips into the room, and upon entering, he hears a small giggle coming from the bed -- it's probably the cutest sound Luke's ever heard. Like, in his entire life. It brings an immediate smile to his face - he's never heard anything so lovely.

The tugging in his chest hasn't gotten any lighter since he entered -- in fact, it's gotten stronger, and Luke feels like something important is happening here. Something big is going to happen.

He starts to make his way over to Ashton, ready to awkwardly introduce himself just as he has so many other times today.

"Hello, Mr. Irwin, I'm Luke and -- holy shit," Luke breathes out, because when he lays his eyes on the boy lying in bed, he sees that the entire right side of his face is covered in blisters and scars stretch down his forearm and extend. Like Luke's.

The boy, Ashton, is beautiful. Even the marks on his face don't take away from that. His eyes are hazel and shimmering, with an undertone of sadness -- like he's been hurt, not just physically, but he's moving around it. He's on his way.

"You," Luke says. Articulate.

"Yeah," Ashton breathes.

Well. They're off to a great start. Monosyllabic conversations are a good thing. Better than... Un-syllabic conversations.

"Um. I'm Luke, and I'm your nurse - well, student nurse - and I'm also your soul mate, apparently. Hi."

Ashton giggles and Luke swears that if he could only hear one thing for the rest of his life, it would be Ashton's laugh a million times over.

"Hi, Luke. I'm uh, Ashton, and I'm your soul mate too, I guess."

Luke is so endeared. He feels tingling on the right side of his face, and like he's found his missing piece. He's losing and gaining at the same time. The scars that Ashton gave him are fading, but his presence is more than Luke could ever ask for.

Luke looks back at Ashton and sees that his face is still blistered, and suddenly remembers why he's there.

"Oh, right. Bandages. Food. Vitals. Right," he mutters, flushing a little bit. Ashton lets out a laugh and Luke bathes in it. (Weird, Luke. Weird.)

He hands Ashton his tray, and gets to work on his vitals.

"So, Soul Mate. Do you mind me asking how you ended up here? With all of this?" Luke asks, gesturing towards his face. Ashton's face darkens and Luke almost immediately regrets asking.

"Oh, god. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's not my place, I don't know you. I'm sorry," he rambles, and Ashton smiles slightly.

"Well, I had to talk to cops I had no tie to about it, so why not tell you? We're fated together, anyway," he says, and he opens his mouth to say more, but someone walks in. Dr. Morrison.

"Luke, have you not changed his bandages yet? I need you back to make a few more rounds. Change them and get back out here, please," Dr. Morrison asks, stern but polite.

Luke sighs and curses her for ruining his moment here.

"Another time, then," he sighs, and gets working on Ashton's bandages.

 

 

 

Luke sees Ashton everyday for two months after that, but they never bring up Ashton's scars again. They talk instead about their lives, their friends and futures. Well, Luke does; Ashton stays quiet on most fronts. Luke thinks he's like an onion; you have to peel him back layer by layer - but not if you use a knife.

Luke pulls out his knife on the day of Ashton's discharge; he brings him in a bouquet of flowers, a messy arrangement he designed himself. He knows Ashton'll like it.

"So, Mr. I'm-No-Longer-Tied-To-A-Hospital-Bed, how does a stroll down the street and a stop at the coffee shop down the road sound to you? Morrison gave me the day off," he asks Ashton as he checks and removes his vitals, aiming for nonchalant, but most definitely hitting 'please say yes you make me really nervous.'

"After you're out of those stupid scrubs, that sounds wonderful," Ashton replies, giggling. His cheeks are red and his dimples are popping, and Luke doesn't know if he's ever seen him smile so wide. Luke is so, so infatuated.

"Only if you get out of that stupid hospital gown," he shoots back, throwing Ashton a wink. Ashton's face, if even possible, goes even redder.

"Get out of here and let me change. I'll be out in a few."

 

Luke leaves and changes into his own clothes, and waits for Ashton with his bouquet outside of his room. He's slightly nervous, because, hey, what if Ashton only likes the boy in the ugly navy scrubs and weird white tennis shoes who can skillfully poke him with needles but can't walk across the linoleum floor? Luke is nervous and sweating and oh, dear god, here comes Ashton, in all of his pretty, not-hospitalized glory. Luke feels like the ground beneath Ashton's feet, because, scars and all, he is the most beautiful thing Luke's ever laid his eyes on. He hands Ashton the bouquet with shaky hands and a shy smile.

Ashton's eyes are warm and happy and Luke feels like he's floating.

 

 

 

They walk down the street hand in hand, once Luke worked up the nerve to grab Ashton's, that is, and arrive at the coffee shop with wide smiles and red cheeks. Luke doesn't know if he's ever felt so happy -- he kind of understands now, why Michael and Calum have a hard time being away from each other for more than a few hours, why they're always attached at the hip. Luke doesn't ever want to leave Ashton's side.

 

They sit down and wait for their orders to be brought out to them, and they hold hands across the table and hook their ankles together. They fit.

Ashton's talking, rambling about some band he's just discovered or something, but Luke isn't really paying any attention. He's watching Ashton's face, the way his eyes sparkle and his lips move with finesse. His eyes wander over his cheekbones and jawline, and linger on his scars. Scars he still doesn't know the story behind.

 " -Luke, are you even listening?" Ashton asks exasperatedly, giggling. Luke is dazed, still so captivated by the scars licking the side of Ashton's face.

 "Ashton, where did your scars come from?"

 Ashton stills. His eyes go dark, and he bites his lip, and Luke knows that he doesn't want to talk about it, but Luke won't back down. 

 "I guess I owe you that. They ended up on your face, too," Ashton says shakily, trying to make a joke out of it, trying to take Luke's attention from the way he's shaking like a leaf and his eyes are glossing over. 

 "Well, um. For a while, I didn't think I had a soul mate. A really long time, actually. There were random bruises, but never something that made me absolutely sure that you were out there. I guess you were maybe overly cautious, or something."

 Guilt washes over Luke like a tidal wave. 

 "Hey, don't feel bad. I skipped to conclusions, it wasn't your fault," Ashton says reassuringly, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on Luke's hand. 

 "But, yeah. I didn't know I had you. So, I dated around, you know? Got with other sad kids who were soul mate-less. Eventually, there was this guy, Charlie. I fell head over heels," Luke tenses at the thought of Ashton with someone else; his nostrils flare and his grip on Ashton's hand tightens. Ashton flinches.

 "Luke, y-you're hurting me," he whispers, and Luke's eyes widen in alarm as he loosens his grip; he brings Ashton's hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle in a silent apology. Ashton giggles quietly and shoots him a small smile.

 "Charlie was sweet, and he didn't have a soul mate either. I get why, now. He- he used to hit me, sometimes. He always said sorry, and I never left because I thought that we were dated together - it made sense to me. But one day," his voice breaks, but he keeps going, "I guess you like, hurt yourself pretty bad? I don't know, there were just a bunch of heavy bruises all along my torso. Scratches on my face, too. I knew that Charlie or myself didn't put them there."

Luke cringes as he recalls what Ashton's talking about; his neighbor was backing out of his driveway and pummeled him. Nothing serious, just bruises and a scraped elbow; but it still hurt and Michael and Calum were ten times nicer to him. Well, before they realized it wasn't serious; after that, they had fun poking him in his tender spots.

"Um, funny story, kind of. I got hit by a car?" He explains, barking a laugh, because it's kind of funny, looking back on it. Ashton apparently doesn't think so; he smacks the back of his hand in admonishment. 

 "Hey, I was worried about you! That's not funny," he reprimands, but his eyes are light in amusement. "A couple weeks after that, I told Charlie. I said I have a soul mate, and I wanted to find you. So I broke things off. Charlie- he didn't like that. He found my house, the small one I rented after I moved out, and uh. Set it ablaze, I guess. While I was sleeping. They barely got me out in time." 

 Luke's eyes are brimming in tears and burning with a raging fire; how could anyone hurt the boy in front of him? He couldn't comprehend how someone could bring themselves to say a mean word to him, let alone set his fucking house on fire. 

"Luke?"

"I'll kill him. I swear to god, I'll kill him," Luke spits, and he can't help it; he's filled with that urge to protect and care for again, he's enraged at the idea that anyone would hurt his boy. He feels a twinge of guilt, too, that he didn't find Ashton sooner. That he didn't hurt himself more as a kid or didn't do reckless things as a teenager. He didn't let Ashton know he was there. It's his fault, his fault. 

"It's not your fault, Luke, please, calm down. Please stop. You're scaring me," Ashton pleads, and he's nearing tears, so Luke tries to tame himself immediately. He gets up from where he's sitting and moves over to Ashton. He pulls him into a right hug and whispers nice things in his ear -- he'll never hurt him- ever.

Luke kisses Ashton for the first time tonight, and he makes sure he packs a million promises into his lips as they meet Ashton's.

 

 

When Ashton meets Michael and Calum, Luke is honestly expecting the worst. Lots of asking about the scars and bruises Luke's attained over the years. Maybe the whole "break his heart and we'll break you" type thing. But the moment his best friends lay their eyes on Ashton, they fall in love; and really, who can blame them? Luke starts to think that they like Ashton more than they like him, and his suspicions are confirmed when Michael calls out,

"Luke, we're stealing your soul mate! He's ours now!"

Ashton just giggles and blushes, and there's nothing but happiness resting in his hazel eyes; no underlying sadness or cries for help.

He's made it.

They've made it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> HELLOOOOO i wrote a thing. i guess u knew this because u hopefully just read said thing. what a lazy ending. i just want to say that i actually have no idea how shadowing/mentoring at hospitals work so this is probably more than inaccurate  
> and i know it's probably inaccurate that ashton would still have all of his hair in this after being burned like that but i love his hair too much to take it away  
> i definitely quoted the blindside once in here. most freakin definitely 
> 
> also i plan on updating high school's the place soon and i say that a lot but i SWEAR i'll do it soon


End file.
